


reasons for patience

by eaglenotbeagle



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Just some musings, Light Angst, Mild Sexual Content, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29826549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eaglenotbeagle/pseuds/eaglenotbeagle
Summary: Why Kie can't let herself love JJ the way she wants to.Or, why I'm certain Rudy is right about Jiara endgame in later seasons.
Relationships: JJ/Kiara (Outer Banks)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	reasons for patience

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to help me flesh out Jiara in another WIP, but I kinda like it! Sort of inspired by that one Rudy interview where he says Jiara shouldn't happen until later so that they can be endgame.

Sometimes, she lets herself wonder what would happen if they finally acknowledged their feelings. What would happen if they moved on from teasing and watching one another and one night fell into each other’s arms. She knows they both know, to an extent, what the other is feeling. But to admit it was to succumb. To admit it was to open themselves up to uncertainty and heartbreak and pain, and Kiara likes being certain with JJ. She likes knowing that he was always there for a joke or a stupid stunt or otherwise idiotic behaviour. She likes knowing he will always end up next to her after a party, once his paramour of the night has awkwardly left and she has gathered up the bottles and plastic cups. She likes knowing that he really, truly cares about her.

But still she lets herself imagine.

It would be a warm night, maybe they would be stacked, the four of them, suspended in the thick night air on the hammocks. He would place his hand, like he sometimes did, on the back of her neck, his thumb stroking slow patterns from her shoulder to her ear. The metal of his rings cold on her skin.

The others would leave eventually, Pope slapping skeeters and John B pulled away by a promising curve to Sarah’s lips. And then it would be just the two of them, swinging gently to the cicada’s music.

When he kisses her, she knows it would start slowly. He would glance at her mouth, just briefly, like he does whenever they come too close while swimming or stumbling drunk. This time, instead of quickly turning his head or overselling a wink, he would look back up to her eyes. Wait for her nod, a tiny, subtle movement that she has wanted to make a thousand times over but has never had the courage.

Their lips would meet clumsily at first. She has watched the many actions of JJ Maybank’s lips and is almost certain of how it would feel. His smiles, his dimples when he laughs. The quirk of his mouth when he says something that he knows will piss her off. The hard set of his jaw when he pulls just the corner into his teeth. No, kissing JJ would be clumsy at first, she is certain. He is raw passion and that is how he kisses, too much teeth and too much tongue before he finds a rhythm.

His hand would drift into her hair. Grab her curls and pull her to him. And by then, she would be so weak, her head would be buzzing so much, that she would shift and roll over on top of him. Breathe in the smell of his seldom-used laundry detergent and his oddly alluring sweat. 

He would taste like weed and cheap beer and spit, probably, but so would she. His lips would find her neck and she knows, she is absolutely certain, that he would intuitively know where to kiss her. What spots to bite and breathe that make her whimper and turn all her bones to joints. She would drop her head to his shoulder, too heavy now with the weight of her desire.

Eventually he would murmur something, checking in with his mouth millimeters from her throat, and she wouldn’t have the words or the strength to answer him. Just a gasp before he flips her over onto her back, his body balanced above her and his hair, silvery in the dark, brushing her face. And she would lock her elbows behind his neck and pull him down again, rhythm finally found, letting his lips melt against hers.

JJ has always been very physical. His large hands would brush over her chest, inch down to the hem of her loose shirt. His fingers burning lines into her skin, soothed just as quickly with the cold of his rings. By the time he slips his hand up under her shirt, knowing just where to touch her, just how rough to be, she would be gone. Absolutely gone for him.

At some point during the night, she would let him slip his long fingers beneath her shorts and bikini bottom. Let him elicit louder gasps that he would breathe in from her open mouth. She knows he would watch her as he did this, eyelids low and lips parted and swollen, memorizing her face as his hands sent shocks through her core and spine and limbs. She thinks he would talk to her. Little things, like her name and how much he wants her and how beautiful she looks, how beautiful she feels. He would love that she couldn’t answer, her mind no longer cooperating with her mouth.

They would stop just before sex, maybe half-attempting it but concerned at the structural integrity of the hammock. He would whisper something quiet and oddly practical, like “we should get a blanket” or “would you rather sleep inside?” but she would no longer have use of her legs. Maybe he would carry her into the Chateau against his chest, his chin resting on top of her head. Or maybe they would sleep just like that, his warm body wrapped around hers beneath the stars.

Her imaginings get complicated after that. After she would wake up, probably drooling a little on his arm, which he would complain about and wipe on her face. Where would it go from there?

This is the uncertainty.

She wants to believe that a relationship would come easily. The movement from friends to lovers as natural as laughing. But she knows this isn’t the case. JJ is loyal, fiercely loyal and selfless with his friends, but he doesn’t do girlfriends. He does girls, Kie has heard it through the Chateau’s thin walls many a time, but he doesn’t do girlfriends. And really, she has never done the commitment either.

Is it worth it? To waste the mistakes and near certain failure of a first relationship on JJ? She doesn’t think it is, because when Kiara Carrera and JJ Maybank finally get together it is supposed to last. They were made to last.

If they were to jump the gun and start now, she knows it would be perfect, for a while. Lazy afternoons with legs entwined on the boat, a pair of strong arms around her waist at a party, his hand helping her onto the deck like a million times before, but not dropping hers anymore. Feeling weak at even a kiss on the cheek, eyelids fluttering at the low sound of his voice. Laughing at his antics and playfully scolding him, but instead of ending at a push on the shoulder, he would pull her in by the wrist to kiss her sloppily in front of everyone. She wants these things, god, she has never wanted anything more.

But none of this would last forever, and she understands that too. She knows herself well enough to understand that maybe she would get bored. Kiara never wants to be stuck in the Outer Banks, wants to have the freedom to come and go and probably eventually stay, but to have choice. And what if JJ becomes like the OBX? What if she starts to feel trapped and she hurts him and ruins it? She may know herself now, but she is a stranger to the concept of Kie in a relationship. JJ can’t be her guinea pig; she won’t allow it.

She can see how it would go. At first, she would pull away a little from his embraces, find herself annoyed rather than amused at his rants and reckless behaviour. She would start to question it. Question if this was where she wanted to be. As much as Kiara loves her Pogues and especially JJ, she can see herself questioning the relationship. For any other guy, her questions might not spell out the beginning of the end. But she knows it would with JJ.

JJ is funny, and loyal, and kind, and his own brand of smart that runs on instinct rather than reason. He is beautiful and witty and he gets her, he understands Kie and the boys and he loves them each in their own right. There is so much about JJ that makes Kiara yearn for his arms around her and his head on her pillow. But she would be the first to say that JJ is not perfect, and that JJ is as unsuited to relationships as he is unwilling. For all his affection, he is reactive, and for all his loyalty, he has deep wounds.

How would he react, if she were to pull him close but then edge away? She can see it clearly. Grasping at her at first, trying harder to keep her close and suffocating her, making her feel more trapped than ever. The harder he pulled, the more she would push. There would be so much riding on this hypothetical relationship. Because out of all of them, JJ needs the Pogues the most. He said it himself, they are his family, and if she ever feels the need to take some space, she knows he would feel like she is jeopardizing all of it.

And maybe she would be. Where would they go from there? A struggle for who is to push and who is to pull? Would they fight? Break down? Break up? She knows that whatever happens, it would probably lead to the latter. God, it would be the first relationship for both of them. Of course it would lead to a break up.

They aren’t even together, but Kiara thinks that breaking up with JJ would be the hardest thing she’s ever had to do. Harder even than finding The Phantom in the open ocean, because at least they didn’t find bodies. Harder by far than when she let Pope down easy and quickly returned to normal. Harder, although perhaps most comparable, than watching Sarah’s party through the cracked screen of her phone.

But if she were to hold his gaze too long, if she were to nod as he stared at her lips, she knows it would lead to a break up. JJ Maybank and Kiara Carrera cannot just kiss and move on. And she knows that when they finally cross that line, she has to be certain. They are made to last, so she has to delay the start.


End file.
